


Does it still count as a date if you're engaged?

by Goombella123



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, adhd viktor if you choose to read him that way, dont be fooled i spell viktor with a k, my ass really latched on to his apparent 'memory issues' and ran with it early in the season
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 08:12:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9712850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goombella123/pseuds/Goombella123
Summary: Yuuri loves Viktor for everything he is, and Viktor loves him for the same, returned tenfold.





	

 

Viktor doesn’t cook.

 

That was more of an unspoken rule between them than a statement- Viktor was not allowed to cook. He’d never offered, and Yuuri had never thought to let him. It’d hadn’t even crossed his mind, and sitting here- the sun peeking its head out from the cloudy Russian sky, covering him and Viktor in the soft glow of sunset- Yuuri thought on why that was.

 

Although Yuuri thought he understood Viktor on a deeper kind of level, he was still unsure as to what made his fiancé tick, sometimes.

 

Viktor did everything else around the house- even back when they were just coach and student in Hasetsu. Viktor’s almost pedantic cleaning certainly put him in his mother’s good books. More than he already was, anyway.

 

He was a very tidy person in general, Yuuri had discovered. His apartment in St Petersburg, where they both were living for now, almost looked like a model home out of a magazine, and it was just as expensive as one. Any mess he or Makkachin made was always swept up immediately by Viktor, no matter how tired or drunk he was. It was like an automatic reaction by the Russian- to seek out and destroy any kind of disorder in the spaces he occupied. It seemed a striking contrast to the man himself.

 

Yuuri wouldn’t have ever pinned Viktor Nikiforov to be a clean freak.

 

Yuuri sighed against Viktor’s throat as he thought this. He could always just ask him- save himself a lot of thinking.

 

“Hey Viktor?” He calls out quietly, the vibrations of his voice partially absorbed by the man’s neck.

 

“Mm?”

 

Viktor lifts his gaze from his blue-lit phone, tilting his head to question Yuuri. Yuuri considers him, hand resting on Makkachin as they talked. The dog chose to occupy both their laps at the same time, stretching his furry mass over the length of the couch.

 

“Your apartment is really tidy.”

 

“Our apartment.”

 

“R-right.” Yuuri amended, and it makes Viktor smile. “I mean, I just kind of live here. You seem to do everything.”

 

Viktor’s response is a warm hum that Yuuri feels more than he hears.

 

“You’re doing everything else though, Yuuri. Isn’t it fair I repay you?” He says, lilting his voice with the question.

 

Yuuri sits up to stare at Viktor sceptically, hair mussed a little where he’d been resting his head on his fiancé’s chest.

 

“What? I do the _least_ , compared to you. I only cook cause you’re terrible.” Yuuri snorts. “You, on the other hand, are always wiping up or doing laundry or- or something. Something clean-y.” Yuuri screws up his nose.

 

“That’s not a word, is it?”

 

Viktor chuckles. “I don’t think so.”

 

Yuuri sighs.

 

He flops back down on the couch, and Makkachin whines with the movement- the dog doesn’t like being jostled.

 

“We never really assigned chores or anything, did we?”

 

Viktor laughs at Yuuri’s sudden question, responding quickly with his own.

 

“You want to know why I don’t cook?” he says.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“You’re just _that_ good at it, Yuuri-“

 

“Viktor-“

 

“-compared to me. Trust me.” The silver-haired man finishes with a smile. “I wouldn’t give my cooking to a _dog_ , let alone you. And I love dogs.”

 

“Gee, thanks.” Yuuri mutters. He pouts at Viktor, pulling his fiancé’s face cloyingly close.

 

“It can’t be _that_ bad, though.” He mumbles, voice tickling Viktor’s nose and cheek. “You’ve survived without me for how long?”

 

“Too long, in my opinion.” Viktor chuckles breathily.

 

He kisses Yuuri on the cheek.

 

“But trust me, Yuuri.” He says. “Your faith in my cooking skills is misplaced.”

 

Yuuri raises an eyebrow, then, like it was a challenge. Viktor’s expression falls blank at Yuuri’s display of cockiness, and it leaves the skater disappointed.

 

As if following up though, Viktor says, deadpan- “Have you ever made a cake?”

 

Yuuri deadpans right back- “Have you?”

 

This garners a snort out of Viktor, at least.

 

“I have, and I forgot at least half the ingredients before I baked it. I skipped almost all of the steps, Yuuri. It was a disaster!” He whines. “Everything that could go wrong, did.”

 

Yuuri can’t help but laugh at his lamenting- in a nice way. It’s a very _Viktor_ thing to do, to have the best intentions without gaining the best results. And he always goes above and beyond- in his successes, and in his mistakes.

 

Yuuri nuzzles his head into his fiancé’s shoulder. Indeed, he voices his thoughts to him.

 

“For god’s sake, Vitya” he chuckles. “Only _you_ could fuck up that spectacularly.”

 

Yuuri isn’t one for swearing, but it’s true. The Russian ducks his head in embarrassment.

 

“I don’t just _forget_ things just for fun.” Viktor mumbles. And that’s something for Yuuri to frown at.

 

“I know.”

 

“Mmm.” Viktor hums as a reply. Yuuri sits up again, a hand pressed to his fiancé’s chest, rather than his head.

 

“Is your memory _that_ bad?” he asks, and Viktor hesitates a moment before nodding.

 

“I couldn’t even follow simple instructions as a kid, honestly. I skip steps, or forget details… It’s why I’m good at improvising, I suppose.” Viktor shrugs, and though he smiles a little, Yuuri can tell when it’s fake.

 

There’s history there, but Yuuri isn’t sure if he should press it. He purses his lips when Viktor taps his arm dismissively, asking permission to move.

 

“It’s nothing to be concerned about, Yuuri. Seriously.” He says, though Yuuri protests. Viktor shuts down any further conversation by rising to his feet once Yuuri shuffles over, despite Makkachin’s whines.

 

“I feel like you should take a break from cooking.” Viktor says suddenly. “How about a date?”

 

Yuuri blinks.

 

Does it still count as a date if you’re engaged?

 

“A- ok. Yeah, sure. I’m up for it.” he stutters, surprised.

 

Viktor grins, the heart-shape of his mouth pressed tight.

 

“That’s the spirit. Your choice today, Yuuri. What do you feel like?”

 

\---

 

Operation: Conspicuous Date Night in Russia consisted of takeout, followed by a stroll throughout the city- stopping whenever and wherever they liked as they ate and walked. Yuuri almost preferred it to anything fancy Viktor might have pulled elsewhere in the globe.

 

(Their shopping date in Barcelona comes to mind. It was nice, but the only time Yuuri had been _that_ winded was after his short program in the Grand Prix)

 

Besides. There was less pressure when it was just the two of them, in some backways street- or listening to the gulls by the beach as freezing waves (in the middle of summer!) lap the sandy shore.

 

Yuuri doubts that any of this would be as quite as nice without Viktor. This isn’t his first time in Russia, and it wouldn’t be his last- Yuuri is 100% sure his newfound love for this place stems entirely from the love he has for Viktor.

 

Speaking of him.

 

 

“You’re spacing out.” Yuuri calls quietly. The silver-haired Russian in question turns to him groggily, eyes glassy and unfocused where he’d been watching the gulls.

 

“Am I?” he croaks replies.

 

“You are. What’s up?”

  
Viktor looks at him blankly for a moment, and sighs.

 

“…Ah. Well. I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”

 

“Notice that something was wrong?”

 

Viktor hangs his head.

 

“…Not quite.” He says cryptically, turning away again.  “But… there _is_ something wrong. With me.”

 

“That’s vague.”

 

“...Oh, Yuuri.” Viktor sighs.

 

There’s a tiny smile on his lips, though, and Yuuri grins in return.

 

“Is this about… before, at all?” Yuuri questions. “ Do you feel bad that you can’t cook?”

 

Viktor laughs a little. “No. Well-“

 

He cuts himself off, and hums, like he’s thinking about it.

 

“…actually, it is, in a weird way. You’re almost _too_ perceptive, Yuuri.” He jokes.

 

Yuuri chuckles, and loops his arms around Viktor from behind. He rests his chin quietly by his (vaguely receding) hairline, and relishes in the short little breath it causes him to take.

 

“…Go ahead.” Yuuri whispers “I’ll listen”

 

It’s quiet for a few moments, save for the caw of the gulls overhead as they flew over the sea back home.

 

“It bothers me, how I forget things.” Viktor mumbles.

 

“It never used to.”

 

“That’s because I could afford to break one or two promises. Or forget a date, or mess up a few steps.”

 

“You can’t now?”

 

“Of course I can’t.” Viktor says seriously. “Not when it’s for you, Yuuri.”

 

Yuuri breathes. He hugs him a little tighter as Viktor continues.

 

“…I know how I am. I’ve…. hurt a lot of people without meaning to. Including you.”

 

Yuuri hums in his ear. Viktor reaches behind him, places a hand on Yuuri’s cheek- and smiling sadly, he turns till ice-blue eyes meet brown.

 

“I don’t want… how I am to get in your way.”

 

_Is that all?_

 

Yuuri smiles a little at that, reflexively. He licks his lips, and turning his head, he presses a kiss into Viktor’s freezing palm.  


“I understand.” Yuuri murmurs. “You’re doing a good job, you know.."

 

Viktor tilts his head back, to look at him quizzically.

 

“I am?” he asks.

 

Yuuri’s face grows warm, and he nods.

 

“Honestly.” He says. “All I ask is that you be yourself, and be open with me. To listen to me. And that’s exactly what you do, Viktor.”

 

Viktor’s face opens, then- eyes clearing as his cheer comes back into focus. Yuuri all but beams at him, pleased with himself as Viktor manages to relax into their embrace.

 

The silver-haired man’s thumb rubs circles into Yuuri’s cheek, and as he does, Yuuri mentions casually- “Did I tell you I took a psychology course?”

 

“Did you?” Viktor replies, half-listening. He seems transfixed, otherwise- blissful in the arms of his partner, in the gaze of the love of his life. Though he may not be too interested, his actions are sanguine in the dying sunlight.

 

“Mm. I failed that semester, though. Statistics was never my strong point.” Yuuri mutters.

 

Viktor laughs, though he’s short of breath.

 

“I suppose that’s why you’re a skater and not a therapist.” He jokes.  


“Shhh. Anyway-“ Yuuri says. “I have… really bad anxiety-”

 

“Oh, noted.”

 

“-Viktor, be quiet.” Yuuri snips, and Viktor laughs loudly at him again.

 

“Now, if you let me finish- the only reason I know how _manage_ it is because of that course.”

 

Yuuri’s confidant, though his voice low now- soothing against the skin on Viktor’s neck when he’d slipped down, and Viktor’s hand held him there like he needed the man to breathe. Yuuri’s tempted to kiss him, then and there.

 

He bites his lip, though.

 

“It kind of… explained a few things for me, in the beginning, when you became my coach. The things I’d learnt in college.”  Yuuri whispers.

 

His fiancé’s voice is a vibration right next to his face.

 

“Like what?” Viktor asks gently.

 

“Like…” Yuuri thinks. “those times when I thought you weren’t listening to me, or you seemed disinterested in things- after a while I worked out that kind of… wasn’t your fault. That’s just _you_. You never mean to be rude.”

 

Yuuri chuckles, thinking back. “So it’s ok that you forget things.”

 

“Or that I can’t take basic instructions.” Viktor adds morosely.

 

“Yeah! It - Oh.”

 

Yuuri pulls away- but only so he can see Viktor’s face. He’s usually sober. The wind sweeps his platinum hair and tugs it lightly, in ways that frame his eyes so beautifully. Viktor isn’t about to cry, but he’s… melancholy, Yuuri would say. Pensive.

 

Yuuri manoeuvres until he’s facing Viktor, front-to-front, and he swallows- looking into his fiancé’s eyes.

 

“Did I say something wrong?” he asks.

  
Viktor’s breath shakes slightly as he takes it. Yuuri fears he’d dipped too far.

 

Viktor murmurs- “No. It’s not you. It’s me.”

 

Yuuri sighs in relief again when Viktor smiles at him. It’s Yuuri’s turn to caress his face, and he loves- he loves the way that Viktor leans into his touch, the same way that Yuuri leans into his.

 

“I… was thinking.” Viktor mumbles, hesitantly. “About how many times I might have given you the wrong idea, when I couldn’t help it. If I-“

 

“You haven’t.” Yuuri quickly interjects. “Viktor, really. That’s what I’m trying to say. I _understand_ you.” He says.

 

“Every time you listen to me, or you sit through something I know you hate, it means _so much more_. When you comfort me even though you’re bad at it-“

 

Viktor laughs. “Which particular incident are you referring to?”

 

“-You try your hardest, Viktor. You’re _you_.” Yuuri says, avoiding Viktor’s comment with a sly, teasing grin.

 

Viktor grins back, too. And he leans in, noses meeting at the same time that their breaths did. To be this close, together, is a bliss.

 

“I love you.”

 

“I know.”

 

Yuuri takes in the quiet for a moment. The silence after the crescendo. He listens to Viktor’s breathing mixed in with his, their shared hearbeat. The gulls and the wind and all the things Yuuri’ll never get used to, in the best kind of way.

 

“…You’re getting sappy on me, Yuuri.” Viktor whispers

 

“Says the man who either cries or giggles like a lovesick _schoolgirl_ when I kiss him.” Yuuri mutters back, his snark half-hearted.

 

Yuuri looks up at his fiancé to see a big, dumb grin on his face. And he’s happy- because it’s the only thing he’s wanted to see all night. It’s the only thing he ever wants to see, is Viktor happy.

 

“He _talks back_ , too! So different from the Yuuri I met in Hasetsu. What happened to him?” Viktor mock-gasps. That genuine grin is still gooey all over his face.

 

This time, Yuuri can’t resist _not_ kissing him, the idiot. So he pulls their lips together with the hand resting on his cheek, and Viktor brings his own to Yuuri’s.

 

The man laughs out loud- bright and beautiful- when he pulls back. Yuuri _did_ say he always cries or giggles when they kiss. He’s happy that today was the former.

 

“Do you feel better?” he asks.

 

Viktor bites his bottom lip, but the corners are shiny, and pulled up in grin. “I think I do. I’ve never been good at maintaining that, but I can try.” He says.

 

Yuuri sighs at him fondly- and when he drops his hand from his face, he rests it on his shoulder, before trailing it down his forearm to slip into place with Viktor’s fingers, interlocked.

  
“…That’s two of us, then.” Yuuri whispers as a joke. Though he adds, in all seriousness- “We make it work.”

 

Yuuri loves Viktor for everything he is, and Viktor loves him for the same, returned tenfold.

 

“We do.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> see this has been sitting in my drafts since. early november. i had to change every instance of boyfriend to fiance isn't that wild.
> 
> i dont remember why i scrapped this so im posting it today for valentines day!! yay!! 
> 
> hope yall got a kick outta this short ass sappy shit


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